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<title>Victory Comes Late by mornen</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29428161">Victory Comes Late</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mornen/pseuds/mornen'>mornen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Begging for Pardon, Children, Crime, Depression, Earthquakes, End of the World, Family, Gen, Kidnapping, Pain, Trust, War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 13:22:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29428161</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mornen/pseuds/mornen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>And love is a brushed on kiss, a brushed away tear, a brush against the cheek, and it means isn’t there a god with mercy? But Maglor’s tears are as hot as the molten core of the bent earth, but the paths do not bend, so how shall any find them? How do you beg for mercy when no one will hear you? </p><p>But still his children want life. Even if there is no god who will save them. Even if it is pain breaking inside of them, ripping at them like the tides.</p><p>*</p><p>Maglor and Maedhros entreat Gil-galad for pardon</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Victory Comes Late</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperialhuxness/gifts">gaolcrowofmandos (imperialhuxness)</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>And love is a brushed on kiss, a brushed away tear, a brush against the cheek, and it means isn’t there a god with mercy? But Maglor’s tears are as hot as the molten core of the bent earth, but the paths do not bend, so how shall any find them? How do you beg for mercy when no one will hear you?</p><p>But still his children want life. Even if there is no god who will save them. Even if it is pain breaking inside of them, ripping at them like the tides.</p><p>‘Do you want to live?’</p><p>‘Yes.’</p><p>Then take a breath and plunge in. The world is colder than you thought it was, even though from birth you have known winter and freezing waters. It is cold in a way that is unreachable – deep blue and full of regret. When the sea is grey, you think it is crying. When it is green, you think of your father’s eyes, and they are the only memory you have of him.</p><p>‘I’m sorry.’</p><p>And shock is the water seizing your muscles and bruising your lungs, and it is the way Ereinion Gil-galad shakes when he stands and grips the post beside him so that he will not fall.</p><p>‘We have come to beg for pardon.’</p><p>Maedhros’s fire has grown cold, but he does not tremble where he stands. Maglor grips the children’s hands. Elrond holds Maedhros’s hand. And the four stand before Gil-galad, and he stumbles where he stands because there are ghosts before him alive in a way that means four beating hearts.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>‘Why did you come here?’ That was Elwing with a voice like a storm. ‘Will you take our last hope?’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘It’s already gone,’ Maglor said. ‘We will all die. Will you not at least spare us eternal damnation?’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘You didn’t spare my brothers.’ And her voice was lightning, coming down blue. She watched them ripped from her; she would not forget – she looking backwards over the shoulder of the soldier who carried her as her brothers were taken by other soldiers, and they were all dying. Who would forget? Who could forgive?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was anger in form of blue electricity that cast them back, but her sons were already taken, and Maglor did not know if they were dead. But she split the cliff with a scream and fell into the churning sea, and Maglor didn’t.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Now he stands before Gil-galad, who looked through the wreckage of the bodies they left behind, and he begs for mercy on his feet as the world falls down.</p><p>Gil-galad cannot save him, but he can maybe let the children live a bit longer, if life is what they want even with the pain of it falling fast through them. They say they do. Can Maglor do more than believe them?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>‘How more could we hurt?’ Elros said, and Maedhros would only turn away. ‘What do you know?’ Elros said. ‘Tell me.’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘It can hurt more than this,’ Maglor said.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They believed him.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>How could Gil-galad know what to say? He stands, and they all shake, but it is the earth that is shaking, for the earth is ending, and it is taking the innocent to unmarked graves not even covered.</p><p>Gil-galad has eyes of starlight, and he falls to his knees as the earth, and the children cast themselves down and cover their heads, and Maglor can’t see a thing, which means that he’s crying, and he doesn’t want to see the horror in Gil-galad’s eyes, so his eyes are shut, and he’s waiting for the words: kill them.</p><p>But then Gil-galad is dragging the children into his arms, and he’s staring at Maglor, and his face is already scarred, though he is young. And he holds thousands of deaths in his heart, though he is young.</p><p>And he says, ‘We cannot trust you.’</p><p>‘We do not ask you to,’ Maglor says. He swallows down an ocean, and it drowns him where he lies.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>happy(?) (belated) birthday! 💖</p></blockquote></div></div>
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